


Another Try

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, Infinity Gems, Injury Recovery, Minor Injuries, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: He was supposed to return the Infinity Stones.He used them instead.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Super excited to get this series out! It's been brewing ever since I saw Endgame last year. I took the title from Josh Turner's song of the same title, and I have honestly based this version of Steve off of the lyrics from that song. Give it a listen if you'd like; might better help you understand why Steve may seem a little OOC.
> 
> Tags will be added/removed as the story progresses.

Steve glanced out over the lake, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He’d changed from his funeral suit into his Captain America _gotta get the job done_ suit, but he didn’t have peace about this mission. 

Usually, when faced with a mission, he looked at it from all sides, studied it until he could describe it in his sleep, plotted out all possible endings. He was a captain for a reason; it wasn’t only because of his looks. 

This mission was simple. Return the stones to their various locations at the point in time just before they were taken. He’d take the Time Stone back to New York, to the Sanctum where Bruce had gotten it from the Ancient One. The Mind Stone was also to be dropped in New York, back in the Tower and in Loki’s staff. He’d take the Space Stone back to Jersey, and the Reality Stone back to Asgard, where Thor and the raccoon had picked it up. The Soul Stone was to go back to Vormir, and the Power Stone back to Morag. 

Simple as that. 

Only… 

Steve turned around, seeing Bruce with his now-useless arm in a sling, typing on a keyboard. Bucky and Sam were helping him set up the time machine, and when Steve glanced into the window in the cabin, he saw Pepper watching them. He watched her bend down, then stand upright again with Morgan in her arms, pointing as she must be trying to explain what was happening. Clint stepped off the front porch, hands in his pockets, giving a half-smile when Wanda stepped up beside him, slipping her arm through his. 

Steve gave a shaky sigh, running a hand over his face. The losses they’d endured were downright _overwhelming_. Tony should be there. Nat should be there. Steve shouldn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night seeing Pepper’s devastated face, still hearing the kid from Queens crying over Tony. 

_You_ should be there. 

Steve blew out a breath, shaking his head as he stared down at the ground. Thanos had been defeated, but look at the price they’d paid. Their loss was too great, the pain too goddamn much. 

Steve went over the mission one more time in his head, background noise fading away as a realization struck him. 

Did he _really_ have to return the Stones? Surely he didn’t have to go to _all_ the places, only to come back to this sorrow-filled time. Maybe he didn’t have to return the Stones at all. Maybe he could use them instead, to send himself back to a better time, a happier time, armed with the knowledge of what’s to come and how to stop it. He could go back to when Tony was still alive, to when Natasha was still alive. 

To when you were alive. 

Steve turned back towards the lake, mind racing, not wanting anyone around to read the emotions he was sure were crossing his face. 

What would happen if he did it? If he used the Time Stone to take him back, to when his friends were still alive, to when they were all still friends, to when you weren’t buried beneath the cold, hard ground? Surely there would be consequences. There were always consequences. 

But hadn’t he paid enough? 

Steve watched a flock of geese fly overhead, heard the rustle of leaves above him as a cool breeze came off the lake. He thought of everyone they’d brought back, everyone who had been at the funeral today. Doctor Strange, Wanda, Bucky and Sam, Scott and Hope. Peter, Shuri, the Guardians, Danvers. 

_Carol_. 

The one called Captain Marvel. 

A smile came over his face when he realized that if he did this, if he went through with using the Stones instead of returning them, his team would still have a Captain in place. 

That realization solidified him. He’d let them believe he was returning the Stones, but he’d use them instead, returning himself to a better time. Surely they’d discover what he’d done, but that was something he’d deal with when the time came. 

_If_ the time came. 

* * *

Bucky had been suspicious. Steve could tell that just by looking into his eyes. He didn’t tell him what was going on, but he was sure they’d figure it out in a few seconds when he didn’t come back. 

Bruce sent him back to New York first, back to the same alley where they’d been what felt like yesterday. Steve gave a shaky breath, glancing around, putting the briefcase on top of a car. He gave a sharp exhale, flipping the locks and opening it. 

He stared at the Stones, the way they glowed in their respective colors. Steve’s eyes went to the green one, the Time Stone, absently wondering if the Ancient One knew what he was doing. He reached for it, then stopped, eyes darting to the small tube holding the aether. 

He opened and closed his fingers a few times before picking up the tube. He let out a shaky, surprised breath when he didn’t turn to dust or melt or have his arm hang limp by his side like Bruce’s. 

Maybe it had to do with him being worthy of lifting Thor’s hammer. 

Pretty sure that wouldn’t happen again. 

Steve closed his eyes, different thoughts coursing through his brain. The aether, the Reality Stone, could alter the reality that he knew. So maybe … maybe Bucky wasn’t taken and tortured by HYDRA. Or maybe if he was, Peggy was able to find him with S.H.I.E.L.D while Steve was in the ice. And maybe Clint never met Laura, so he wouldn’t have a family to lose. And maybe that meant Nat could have him the way she wanted. And maybe Thor and Bruce never left, so the motley crew of Avengers have always stuck together. 

With his eyes closed, Steve didn’t notice the aether glowing red-hot, staying that way for just a few heartbeats before cooling again. 

Steve blinked his eyes open, setting the aether back into the briefcase. His hand shook as he reached for the Time Stone, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, closing his eyes as he thought back to better times. 

After Ultron and Sokovia, but before the Accords, when the original group of Avengers took in a few new team members, and they all lived together in the compound like a commune of superheroes. 

This time would be different. He’d make sure of it. This time he’d focus more on what his heart desired, instead of what his head told him was right. 

This time … he’d _make_ time.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve opened his eyes when he heard birds chirping, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around. The dusty, broken alleyway where he’d been was gone, and he was standing in the middle of a field. Wildflowers were all around him, with fat bumblebees buzzing from one flower to the next. He noticed a shadow on the ground around him and glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening when he fully turned around. 

“Holy shit.”

The compound loomed over him, and Steve staggered backwards, raising a hand to cover his mouth. He shook his head, unfolding his fist and looking down at the Stone in his other hand, watching it cool from a neon green to the emerald he recognized. His hand shook as he set it back in the briefcase, which was resting in the dirt beside him. He snapped it shut and carried it as he jogged towards the compound, breaking into a sprint and bursting through the door. 

“Hello?”

There was no answer, and Steve tried not to focus on the panic trying to creep into his chest. He set the briefcase on the counter in the kitchen, the unofficial gathering place for the team, going to push his shaking hands through his hair, eyes widening when he touched hair shorter than he remembered. He looked down to see that his time-travel uniform was gone, and he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. 

Instead of just arriving in the old time, he’d somehow put himself in his younger body. He moved his hands out, turning them over, studying his thick forearms. He lifted his head, glancing around before moving through the kitchen almost frantically, opening and shutting drawers, then cabinets, muttering to himself before he finally went still. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

No response. Steve pressed his lips together, shaking his head. 

“Surely not.”

He glanced around, licking his lips before speaking. 

“Jarvis?”  
 _“Yes, Captain Rogers?”_

Steve’s eyes widened and he swallowed. 

“What’s the date?”

Jarvis gave him the month and the day, and he licked his lips, voice shaking slightly. 

“What year?”  
 _“2015.”_

Steve fell into one of the chairs at the table, putting his face in his hands. 

_It worked._

He was back in the compound, back in time, back where he’d wanted to be. His eyes drifted to the briefcase on the table, and he picked it up, taking it back to his bedroom and hiding it as best he could. He stopped halfway across the floor, turning to the mirror above his dresser. He stared at himself, eight years younger with much less weight on his shoulders. 

The thing was … he didn’t feel bad. He didn’t feel guilty about not returning the Stones, or about using the damn Stones instead, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. But as a door opened somewhere deep in the compound, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

* * *

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, going completely still, his heart giving a heavy thump in his chest when he saw the two people who had just walked into the room. 

“There you are, lazybones. I can’t believe you sat out this little milk run.”  
“Eh, I don’t know. I kind of liked it better without ‘The Star Spangled Banner’getting stuck in my head whenever he bossed us around.”

Steve couldn’t take his eyes from Natasha as she elbowed Clint’s stomach, his breathy laugh reaching Steve’s ear as they walked towards the kitchen. Clint slung an arm around her shoulders and Nat slid her hand into his back pocket, and Steve just stared after them. 

Clint seemed lighter, much different than the broken soul Steve had left behind. And Natasha … 

Natasha was _alive_. 

At the sound of quiet whispers, Steve looked to see two people huddled close together enter the room. His eyes widened when he saw the silver-haired young man, who nodded to him before a burst of wind hit Steve in the face. Wanda gave a soft laugh as she walked past Steve, looking down as she walked towards the kitchen. 

_“The twins did very well for their first team outing. I think with a bit more coaching, they’ll both be excellent assets to the team.”_

Steve nodded at Jarvis’ words, stepping off the stairs, and glancing towards the kitchen. Steve shook his head, lifting a hand to his lips. 

Pietro was alive, which meant he hadn’t died in Sokovia? Steve looked back towards the kitchen, giving another shake of his head. Pietro’s death had been the catalyst to give Wanda the strength to end the fight. If that never happened, how did they defeat Ultron? 

And how was Jarvis not Vision?

Steve determined that he wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, that he’d need to comb through files to see what this life truly was. He looked up as he heard the door open, turning to see who would walk through the door next, grabbing onto the bannister when he saw the dark heads of hair huddled together. 

“The calibration was off by three and a half seconds, and if we could buckle it down to beat even that—“  
“It wouldn’t take much. Let’s go to the lab and I’ll run some data.”

Bruce waved at Steve as he started for the stairs going down, and Tony walked past him, stopping and backing up. Steve stared into Tony’s dark eyes, watching one eyebrow raise. 

“You in there, Cap?”

Steve swallowed, but nodded. Tony gave a slow nod, narrowing his eyes. 

“You good?”

Steve nodded again, and Tony hit Steve’s bicep with the back of his hand. 

“We kicked ass out there. Maybe you should tap out on a few more missions.”

Tony chuckled to himself as he jogged in the direction Bruce had gone, and Steve smiled as he watched him leave. 

“You’re so full of shit!”

Steve grabbed onto the bannister again, turning towards the door with unabashed hope on his face. He sucked in a broken breath when he saw the flash of dark hair, a few seconds before Bucky stumbled into the room, laughing as he held his metal hand to his chest. He shook his head and walked to Steve, that same metal hand patting Steve’s chest. 

“Nice to see you, punk.”

Steve just stared at him, turning to the doorway to see you and Sam walking arm in arm. Sam nodded to Steve, grabbing the back of Bucky’s shirt and tugging him backwards, the two of them bickering as you stepped towards Steve, hands clasped behind your back, cheeks rosy, looking lovely and alive. 

“Hey, Cap. Missed you out there.”

You smiled as you nodded at him, starting for the kitchen but going still when you noticed the look on Steve’s face. You tilted your head, a soft smile coming to your lips as you turned back, sliding your hands into your pockets.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Steve stared at you for a moment, eyes raking from your hair to your feet, back to your lips and meeting your eyes. He swallowed and stepped closer to you, hand shaking as he reached out. You stayed where you were, eyebrows furrowing when his hand came to rest against your cheek. 

“Steve?”

He shook his head, hand sliding to your neck, where he gently tugged you closer until he could wrap you in his arms. You stood in absolute shock for a moment, feeling his heart race where his chest was pressed against yours. His hands slowly slid up your back and down again, before one arm locked around your waist and the other hand came to rest at the back of your head. When you heard his shaky exhale, you gave in, closing your eyes as you went up on your toes, wrapping your arms around him. 

You had no idea what was happening, but you were _reveling_ in it. 

Steve was holding back tears. He had you in his arms again—no, for the _first_ time—and he never wanted to let you go. He heard the near-silent whispers behind the two of you, but he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge anything at this moment but you. Your soft breath on his neck, the feel of your body pressed against him and beneath his hands, the steady thrum of your heart in your chest. 

You were _alive_ and he had you back. 

He fought back a full-body shiver when one of your hands drifted into his hair, gently stroking your fingers through it as your voice was barely a whisper. 

“What happened?”

He shook his head, putting his face in your hair and giving another shaky exhale. You blinked a few times, speaking softly. 

“What is it? Did you see something? Did someone—“

You went quiet as he tightened his hold on you, and you sighed as you rested your head against his. After a moment, you spoke again. 

“I’m here, Steve. I’m right here.”

Steve nodded, loosening his arms from around you, stepping back, swiping a wrist under his nose. He shook his head. 

“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.”  
“I just …”

He lifted his head, staring at you some more, shaking his head. You licked your lips, speaking softly. 

“Did something happen to you? While we were gone?”

Steve slowly nodded. 

“Let’s just say … I got a glimpse into what my life could be and I …”

He shook his head and you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Was it a spell? Someone sneak in and hotwire your brain? Loki?”

Steve smiled, shaking his head again. 

“No, nothing like that.”  
“If we need to do something to help you—“  
“I’m fine.”

You sighed, pushing a smile onto your face. 

“You’re always fine, Cap.”

He didn’t like that, the way you effortlessly switched from calling him “Steve” to “Cap.” Cap was—more or less—your boss, while Steve could maybe be seen as a friend. The switch was like turning on a light, where the friendliness was gone and professionalism slipped into place. Steve _hated_ that. 

He stared at you as you kept that fake smile on your face and nodded, moving to walk towards the kitchen, but Steve reached out and took hold of your wrist. You looked down where he was rubbing his thumb along your pulse point and you met his eyes again. He took in a breath, tugging on your wrist and pulling you closer. You shook your head, voice barely a whisper. 

“Steve? What are you—“

Your eyes widened when his hands moved to cradle your face, and you sucked in a breath a second before his lips were on yours. Your hands flew up to his chest, intending to push him away because _what the hell_ was Captain Steve Rogers doing kissing you, but that melted away as his lips moved against yours. Your hands fell to his hips, resting at the band of his sweatpants, letting yourself get absolutely lost in his kiss. 

_“Ahem!”_

Steve pulled away from you, rubbing his thumbs along your cheekbones before letting his hands fall. You just stared at him, eyes wide, kiss-swollen lips slightly parted, and he smiled as he turned away. He put his hands in his pockets, slowly walking out of the room where, unbeknownst to you, a crowd had gathered. Tony and Bruce stood on the steps leading down to the lab, shock evident on their faces. Clint and Nat were beside Bucky and Sam, the boys all looking identical with their mouths hanging open, Natasha staring at you, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over her chest.

You lifted a shaky hand to press to your lips, and Tony, Sam, Bucky, and Clint tore off in the direction Steve had gone. Bruce shook his head before walking back down towards the lab, and Natasha walked over to you. 

“What the hell was that?”

You shook your head, letting your hand fall as you turned to face your friend.

“He kissed me.”  
“No kidding.”  
“Nat.”

Natasha turned in the direction the boys had gone, giving a minute shake of her head. 

“What the hell is going on here?”


	3. Chapter 3

“You want to tell me what the _fuck_ that was about?”

Steve raised his eyebrows as he looked across the gym at his best friend. _God_ , Bucky looked fantastic. He looked … healthy. His hair wasn’t as long as it once had been, but it wasn’t short like it had been in the Forties, either. Steve watched as Bucky gathered it into his hands, pulling a hair tie off his wrist and tying his hair into a bun. His left arm was shiny, not the dark vibranium arm he’d gotten in Wakanda before the snap, but the same arm he’d had during their tussle when he was the Winter Soldier. Steve felt a twinge of pain deep in his gut when he thought back to that, when they’d fought and Bucky had shot him multiple times before they’d fallen into the water. 

He wondered if they’d even had that fight in this timeline. It didn’t seem that way; Bucky was too … _free_ here. Too comfortable in the compound. 

Maybe that meant … he didn’t kill Howard and Maria?

Steve shook his head, making a mental note to research that along with everything else later, and Bucky tossed his metal arm out towards the door. 

“Why’d you kiss her?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders, walking towards the pull up bars. 

“Why not?”  
“Why n—the fuck you mean, _‘why not?’_ Steven.”

Steve used his arms to lift himself up, lowering his body before lifting himself up again, settling into a rhythm. Bucky shook his head, moving to stand in front of the bar, head bobbing as he watched Steve move up and down. 

“Seriously, though. What the fuck, man?”

Steve gave an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, dropping to the ground. He’d lost count, anyway. He brushed his hands off, laughing again when Bucky gave his shoulder a shove, nodding at his best friend as he spoke. 

“Do _you_ want to kiss her?”

Bucky made a face. 

“No!”  
“Then why does it matter?”

Bucky blinked. 

“Because, _Captain America_ , you don’t go around kissing dames like that. Especially not in front of the team.”

“Careful, Buck. Your ‘40s is slipping out.”

Bucky had always had a tendency to dip into ‘40s slang when he got going, something that clearly hadn’t changed and made Steve smile. Bucky narrowed his eyes, and Steve’s smile widened. He leaned over and gripped Bucky’s flesh shoulder. 

“Have I somehow tarnished your view of me? Did that kiss scandalize you, Buck?”  
“Get off me.”

Steve laughed as Bucky wrenched away from him. Bucky shook his head as he spoke. 

“It’s not my fault you put off that star-spangled virgin air. It’s just … weird. You don’t show affection like that.”

Steve nodded. 

“Maybe I’m gonna start.”  
“Why? Did something happen while we were gone?”

Steve sighed, walking towards the free weights. Bucky followed him, sitting on one of the benches while Steve picked up a couple seventy-five pound weights. He started lifting them, shaking his head. 

“Nothing happened. I just … got my thoughts in order. Gained some perspective, I guess.”  
“Perspective.”

Steve nodded, inhaling each time he curled the weight up, exhaling when he relaxed his arm. 

“What the fuck kind of perspective are you talking about, Steve?”

Steve sighed, setting the weights aside. He turned to straddle the bench he was sitting on, facing Bucky. 

“I like her. I’ve liked her for a long damn time, and I ain’t done nothin’ about it.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because, as you so eloquently put it before, I’m Captain fuckin’ America.”

He shrugged. 

“Everyone expects me to be so goddamn patriotic and pure all the time, and I’m just tired of it. Tony’s got Pepper. Nat’s got Clint. You’ve got … whoever’s bed you’re bouncing in this week—“  
“Hey!”

Steve ignored the self-righteous exclamation, continuing to speak. 

“Why can’t I have someone, too?”

Bucky was quiet, and Steve finally dragged his eyes from the ground to his best friend. Bucky was studying him, gray-blue eyes the slightest bit stormy, shaking his head. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”  
“Yes.”  
“And nothing happened while we were gone?”

 _Nothing you need to know about,_ Steve thought. He shook his head. 

“No.”

Bucky nodded, leaning back. 

“So you just … want a girlfriend?”  
“Maybe. If she’ll have me.”  
“Don’t punch me. Do you really want a girlfriend or do you just need to get laid?”

Steve swung before he thought, Bucky easily catching his hand. 

“I said _don’t_ punch me!”

Steve narrowed his eyes and Bucky let go of his hand. 

“I’m not trying to piss you off. I’m just genuinely curious. When was the last time you … ya know.”  
“We’re not having this conversation.”  
“Oh, come on!”  
“Nope. Not going there.”

Steve stood up, taking the weights back to their places, shaking his head as he started for the door. Bucky jogged after him.

“Has it at least been since you came out of the ice?”  
“Fuck you, Barnes!”

Bucky stopped in the middle of the floor, tossing his head back laughing when the door burst open and Sam, Clint, and Tony filed in. Steve raised an eyebrow and Sam stepped forward. 

“Sorry, I held ‘em off as long as I could.”

Steve furrowed his brows, looking back to Bucky. Bucky shrugged, tossing out his metal hand. 

“I didn’t get very far anyway. I’m stuck at does he want a girlfriend or does he just need to get laid?”

Tony’s eyes were on fire when he looked to Steve. Steve raised an eyebrow and Clint laid a hand to Tony’s chest. 

“Easy.”

Steve stared at them and Clint sighed as he turned to face him. 

“Look, as much as we’re dying to know what that was all about … some of us have a few … concerns.”

Steve raised his eyebrow again and Tony shook his head as he stepped forward. 

“Not her. Go get any other woman on this planet, just not her.”

Clint sighed, muttering under his breath. 

“Or we can just jump right in.”

Steve shook his head. 

“What’s going on?”

Tony stepped even closer. 

“I get it. She’s gorgeous, she’s nice, she’s fun. But she … Steve we _need_ her around here.”  
“What, you think I’m going to run her off?”

Tony didn’t answer, and Steve shook his head. 

“I’m not going to fuck her and never call her again, Tony. I’m not—“  
“Watch what you say next.”  
“Not cool.”  
“Don’t even go there.”

Steve closed his eyes and pressed his lips together at the chorus of voices that cut him off and overlapped. Steve sighed, looking them all in the eyes. 

“I’m not in this just to get a quick lay. I’m not even thinking about me here. I don’t know why you’re all jumping all over me with the need to protect her, even though she’s probably stronger than all of us put together.”

The men exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. Steve shook his head. 

“I’m not going to hurt her. I promise. I won’t run her off or put her in any danger. I just …”

_I love her._

He swallowed, shaking his head again. Tony nodded, taking hold of the front of Steve’s shirt. 

“If you hurt her, I will shove that shield places my father never intended it to be. Got it?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Tony smoothed the shirt over Steve’s chest, patting it as he turned away. Clint cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest, lifting his chin to look Steve in the eyes. 

“Ever had an arrow shot up your ass?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head. Clint nodded. 

“Let’s keep it that way.”

Steve couldn’t stop the smile then, and Sam stepped up and gripped his shoulder, smiling at him. 

“Just take care of her, alright?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky patted his back as he followed the rest of the men from the gym. Steve closed his eyes, lifting his head and letting out a long breath. 

* * *

You paced around the conference room, shaking your head at every turn. Natasha was sitting in one of the chairs, feet propped up on the table, watching you with an amused look on her face. The two of you turned at the quiet knock on the door, and Wanda poked her head in. 

“Jarvis said you wanted to see me?”

Natasha nodded. 

“Come on in. Have a seat.”  
“What is going on?”  
“We’re just watching Y/N have a breakdown.”  
“I’m not having a breakdown.”

You muttered Russian curses under your breath and Natasha snorted as she rolled her eyes. She rolled her head to look at Wanda. 

“We needed more estrogen in the room.”

Wanda slowly nodded, taking a seat a few chairs down from Natasha. You finally stopped pacing and turned to Natasha. 

“Sex pollen.”  
“No.”  
“I’m putting off some pheromones only super soldiers are affected by.”  
“If that was true, Barnes would have jumped you long before now.”  
“Oh, good point.”

Natasha nodded, rolling her head to look at Wanda again. 

“She got kissed by the Captain in front of God and everyone.”  
“Captain Rogers?”

Natasha nodded and Wanda sat up straighter. You groaned, shaking your head. 

“There’s no … no. There has to be a reason.”  
“There is.”

You looked to Natasha and she shrugged. 

“But you’re clearly looking for an explanation other than _he wants to jump your bones_.”

Yours and Wanda’s cheeks flushed and you shook your head. 

“That’s _not_ it.”  
“Then what is it? Because everything you’ve thrown out so far has been bullshit and you know it.”

You ground your teeth together as Wanda sank lower in her chair, a small smile playing at her lips as she watched you. Natasha uncrossed her ankles and spoke again. 

“What’s so bad about that?”

You pushed a hand through your hair and sighed. You grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the table, sitting down across from Natasha. 

“Nothing. Just … he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”  
“What kind?”  
“A one night stander.”

Wanda hummed and both women rolled to look at her. She shrugged her shoulders. 

“Captain Rogers does not strike me as a …”  
“One and done kind of deal?”

Wanda nodded at Natasha, who looked back at you. You shrugged. 

“He does seem monogamous. Long-term relationship monogamous.”  
“The wife and the picket fence and the two-point-five kids.”

Natasha nodded as she began swiveling her chair back and forth as Wanda looked at her hands, speaking softly. 

“Would that be so bad?”

Natasha went still, following your lead and looking to Wanda. Wanda shrugged her shoulders and met your eyes. 

“You don’t think it would be … enjoyable?”

Natasha looked to you with a wide smile on her face, a smile playing at Wanda’s lips as your cheeks flushed. Natasha giggled in her chair, going back to swiveling. 

“Go talk to him. See what’s up with him and if it’s something that might be up with you. Or _in_ —“

“Nat, don’t.”

She giggled again, and you shook your head. You let out a breath, laying a hand against your fluttery stomach. Wanda cleared her throat. 

“Just to clarify, you _want_ to see what is up with him or not?”

You swallowed, then nodded.

“I do.”  
“Why?”

You shrugged your shoulders. 

“Because. Because he’s … kind. Smart. He’s funny, and he doesn’t really try to be. He’s a deep thinker, but he’s not above fighting dirty. He’s got such a sensitive soul, but he’s so strong and have you seen his arms? Or his face? Or—“

You stopped yourself, looking from a grinning Wanda to Nat, who looked very much like the cat that ate the canary. You felt your cheeks flush again and Natasha nodded, pulling her feet off the table and standing up. 

“Go talk to him. And try not to fall into bed with him until he buys you dinner first.”  
“Screw you, Romanoff.”  
“No, no. It’s _Rogers_ you want to screw. Not Romanoff.”

She cackled when you grabbed a pen off the table and threw it at her. She caught it in one hand on her way out the door, tossing it back to the table. You caught Wanda’s eye and she smiled at you, sliding back from the table and following Natasha out the door. 


	4. Chapter 4

You knocked on the door, not waiting for an answer before you strode into the room. Steve turned from his dresser, one eyebrow raising as he looked to you. 

“Everything okay?”  
“You kissed me.”

Steve blinked, turning fully to face you, moving his hands to his sides, gripping the edge of the dresser. 

“Yes.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Why?”

Steve glanced down at the floor, a smile playing on his lips. You shook your head again, unable to stay still as you began pacing. 

“Don’t … don’t do that.”  
“What?”  
“That smile.”  
“I can’t smile?”  
“Not that one!”

Steve gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head. 

“What’s wrong with my smile?”

You groaned, stopping your pacing, putting your face in your hands. You pushed your hands through your hair, meeting his eyes. You gave a sigh, shaking your head, speaking softly. 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Steve smiled that same smile as he ducked his head to stare at the floor again. You pressed your lips together, stepping closer to him, feeling your heartbeat speed up at the nearness. He lifted his head the slightest bit, and you felt the breath hitch in your chest when his azure eyes locked onto yours. 

“Did you not like it?”

You blinked. 

“What?”

Steve’s smile widened. 

“Did you not enjoy the kiss?”

Your eyes widened. 

“I enjoyed it _very_ much.”  
“Good.”  
“I just want to know why.”

He nodded. 

“I’m tired of fighting it.”  
“What?”  
“The way I feel about you.”

You blinked. 

“Me?”

Steve tilted his head to the side. 

“Why is that so surprising?”

A smile crossed your face as you lifted a hand. 

“Because you’re _you_. You look like _that_ , so what could you possibly see in me?”

Steve shook his head, reaching out for you. You twisted away at the last minute, crossing the room and putting some space between the two of you. Steve raised an eyebrow and you shook your head. 

“We need to talk. We need to have a conversation like two adults, and we won’t do that if you touch me because—“  
“One touch from me turns you into a horny teenager?”

Your mouth dropped open as he threw back his head and laughed, and you felt your cheeks grow warm as you marched to him and slapped his arm. That only fueled him, making him laugh harder, and you smiled as his big hands closed around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You moved your hands to his broad shoulders, closing your eyes as you looped your arms around his neck. His hands slowly slid up your back, pushing you closer as his voice pitched deeper, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Now, see? This isn’t so bad, is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head, moving closer to the warmth of his chest. 

“No, it’s not bad at all.”

Steve nodded, opening his eyes when you leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. 

“Where is this coming from?”  
“What?”  
“ _This_. You’ve never acted this way around me.”

Steve nodded. 

“Is it okay?”

You gave a soft laugh. 

“It’s more than okay. I just … I’m having trouble … wrapping my mind around it.”  
“The fact that I want you?”

Your eyes widened, eyebrows raising. Steve nodded, continuing the slow movement of his hands up and down your back. 

“Let’s just say I … had some things put in perspective.”  
“Are you sure nothing happened while we were gone?”

Steve smiled. 

“Nothing earth-shattering.”  
“Are you okay?”

He nodded, eyes scanning over your face, one hand drifting to finger the ends of your ponytail. You smiled, a shiver running through your body when his calloused fingers brushed against your spine. 

“You okay?”

You nodded, feeling your breath quicken as Steve leaned closer to you. Your eyes drifted closed as his lips touched yours, and you fought to keep yourself upright. His lips coaxed yours open, and you couldn’t stop the moan when his tongue slid against yours. You let the kiss go on just a bit more, then you stepped away, every nerve ending in your body screaming for you to get back nestled against him. You lifted a shaky hand to your lips and shook your head. 

“We … we can’t …”  
“Why the fuck not?”

You arched an eyebrow, a smile playing at your lips. Anyone who thought Steve Rogers was an _“aw, shucks, ma’am,” “watch your language, son”_ kind of guy was sadly mistaken. The man had a mouth that would make a sailor blush with shame, something only exacerbated by close proximity to one James Buchanan Barnes. 

“Steve—“  
“No. Give me one good reason why we can’t.”

You shook your head. 

“Because we work together.”  
“That’s a lame, bullshit excuse and you know it.”

Your eyes widened. 

“Where is this coming from?”

He gave an exasperated exhale, turning to face you. 

“All my life, I’ve done what’s right. I got my ass kicked by standing up to bullies, I got turned away from so many Army physicals that I lost count, and then I became Captain America. I turned my back on everything I’d ever known, giving what I thought was my life to save the world. Ever since coming out of the ice, I’ve still been the same old Steve. Still doing the right thing, still fighting.”

He stopped, only then realizing how he’d been pacing the room, turning to find you sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him. He blinked, chest aching with the feeling of you _belonging_ in this room, in his bed, shaking his head as he turned to face you. 

“I’ve always done what was right, what was expected of me, and I’ve never once thought of myself.”

He shook his head, walking over to you. 

“I think it’s time I did something for me. Something that I want.”  
“You want to be selfish.”  
“For once in my life, yes.”

He stood in front of you, crouching down until he was on your level. 

“Do you think you could stand that?”

You tilted your head to the side as he moved a hand to cover your own. 

“Could you let me be selfish with you?”  
“I’m not going to be the princess locked away in the tower. I can’t do that, Steve.”  
“I’d never ask that of you.”  
“And I don’t want to be your dirty little secret.”  
“No, that’s not …”

He blew out a breath and you turned your hand over in his, lacing your fingers together. He lifted his eyes to yours and you smiled. 

“I don’t know if we could ever have a ‘normal’ relationship. Not as Avengers.”

He lowered his eyes, staring at your entwined hands. He nodded, his voice pitching lower. 

“You’re right. We’ll never be normal. But I … I’d like the chance to grab little pockets of normal any chance I could. And I’d like to do it with you.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like … _anything_. Let’s take a drive or take a vacation. Watch movies and stupid shit on Netflix. Let me cook you breakfast and kiss you dirty in the shower.”

Your eyebrows jumped at that, and Steve lifted his head, giving a soft laugh as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You like the sound of that?”  
“Very much.”

He laughed again, and you moved your other hand to trap his hand between yours. 

“I want you to know that as enticing as this sounds, I am not a foregone conclusion. I want to be wined and dined, Cap. I’m not just going to fall into bed with you.”

He made a face, tilting his head. 

“Are you sure about that? Anyway I might could persuade you otherwise?”

You laughed as his free hand crawled beneath the hem of your shirt, and you yanked your hands from him and clamped them on your shirt. 

“I’m not easy, Cap. And don’t you even _think_ about making a smartass remark right now.”

He laughed, pulling his hand away from you, holding them up beside his head. He stood to his feet, offering you a hand. You put your hand in his, gasping when he pulled you to your feet and into his arms. Your hands went to rest against his chest, and one of his arms encircled your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. He lowered his lips to yours and you were thankful for his strength, because you really couldn’t keep yourself upright on your own. Your hands moved to his thick shoulders, and you moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. The hand he had on the back of your head moved you how he wanted, and that very fact sent tingles up and down your spine. 

Steve moved his hands to your hips, wordlessly encouraging you to jump, which you did, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walked over to the wall, pressing you against it as you moaned again, gasping when he rolled his hips against yours, the bulge in his sweats igniting fires within you. 

He moved to kiss your neck, down to the neck of your shirt, and you moaned, hissing out a breath when you felt the scrape of his teeth. 

“I know you … probably don’t believe— _oh god_ , right there.”

Steve smiled against your skin, gently sucking the spot he’d just hit, reveling in the feel of your nails digging into his shoulders. You whimpered, breath heaving from your lungs as he dipped his tongue beneath the V of your shirt, wetting your collarbone. 

“Christ.”  
“Just ‘Steve’ is fine.”

You laughed as you swatted his shoulder, and he lifted his head to smile at you. You shook your head, a shaky hand lifting to brush through his hair. 

“I know you probably don’t believe the whole ‘I’m not easy’ spiel I just gave you, but …”  
“Nah, I believe you.”  
“Do you, though? I mean, we haven’t even had our first date and you’ve got me pressed against the wall.”

Steve looked around, as though he was just now noticing your positions, and you giggled. He started to move and you grabbed his shoulders, shaking your head. 

“I’m not complaining!”

He gave a soft laugh and you shrugged. 

“So I may be a _little_ easy, but I’m usually not like this.”  
“Really?”  
“Guess you just bring it out in me.”  
“Good to know.”

He kissed you again, hands going to your thighs and gently unwrapping you from around him. He set you on your feet and smiled at the quiet noise of displeasure you made. He moved his hands to the wall on either side of your head, looking down at you. You blinked slowly, looking up at him through your lashes as a smile crept over his face. 

“You busy tomorrow?”

You shook your head. 

“The usual schedule. Training in the morning, a meeting with Tony scheduled for noon, but will most likely be pushed back to whenever he crawls out of bed.”

Steve smiled.

“Be ready by six.”  
“AM or PM?”

He raised an eyebrow at your cheeky grin. 

“Eighteen hundred hours.”

“Roger that, Cap.”

He leaned in closer, and your eyes drifted shut, face lifting the slightest bit … eyes flying open when his lips lingered against your cheek. His hand drifted to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze, stepping away from you. You blinked a few times as you stared up at him and he glanced towards the bed, biting his bottom lip. 

“Invitation’s always there.”

You felt your cheeks burn and you slowly nodded. 

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that … once we get to know each other a little better.”

Steve nodded, and you smiled at him before you made your way to his door. You held your hand on the knob, swallowing hard, trembling just the tiniest bit before you straightened your shoulders and walked away. 

When the door closed behind you, Steve’s legs gave out and he collapsed on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, cock throbbing in his pants, and he shook his head, lifting both hands to push through his hair. 

Kissing you was _everything_ he’d imagined it to be. He _craved_ the feeling of your lips against his, and he had to physically restrain himself to keep from running down the hall to your room. He didn’t even care if it ended with sex or not. He just wanted to be near you. 

He’d gone too long without seeing you, hearing your voice. 

Touching you. 

He closed his eyes as he thought back to this day, but the way he remembered it. He hadn’t gone on the mission, choosing to sit this one out to see if the team could handle it. Of course they had, coming home and greeting him, your soft voice and gentle smiles tucking themselves away in his heart. You’d gone to debrief by yourself, meeting up with the team for dinner while he left to check on a lead in finding Bucky. 

You and he had always been like two ships passing in the night. Never meeting, just cursory greetings, barely touching at all. He’d loved you from afar, and when he’d lost you …

He squeezed his eyes shut at that horrible memory, sitting up and dragging his hands over his face. He blew out a breath and stood up, stripping off his shirt and heading for the shower.


	5. Chapter 5

You had your catsuit on but hanging off your waist as you tried to fix your hair. Natasha was the best at leaving her hair down, curled or straight, not letting it hinder her in any way as she kicked serious ass. If you tried to do that, you spent most of the time pushing your hair out of your eyes, and that one time you tried to take a minute and put your hair up in a ponytail in the middle of a fight, Tony ended up with a grade II concussion. Something he still takes every chance he can to remind you about. 

You spit out a breath, letting your hands and your hair fall. You shook your head and shook out your arms, starting to go back to fixing your hair, stopping when you saw a bit of movement behind you in the mirror. You leaned to the side and Steve poked his head in the doorway. A smile spread over your face as you beckoned him into the bathroom. 

“Hey, Cap.”

He nodded, raising an eyebrow as he took in your black tank top and half-zipped suit. You rolled your eyes as you motioned towards yourself. 

“I get too hot if I put the suit on before I’m fully ready. And my hair’s not cooperating, so …”

Steve slowly nodded, leaning against the doorframe. You were distracted by his thick arms in his dark suit, and when you let your eyes drift back to meet his, you saw the smirk on his face. You felt your own face heat up and you shook your head as you turned to the mirror and began again to gather your hair into a ponytail. 

“Have you ever braided it?”

You snorted, shaking your head. 

“I can’t braid my own hair. I can kinda do someone else’s, but I don’t know how to get it started. I wish I could French braid. That would be perfect.”

Steve pushed off the wall, walking to stand behind you, looking down at your head. 

“Let me try.”

You met his eyes in the mirror.

“I’m not your guinea pig, Rogers.”

He smiled, laying his hands on your shoulders. 

“You’re not my guinea pig. You’re not the first girl I’ve done this for.”  
“Let me just tell you, that line? Not going to get you far.”

Steve paused, your words sinking in as he smiled, shaking his head.

“You’re the worst.”

You laughed, dropping your hands. Steve gave your shoulders a squeeze before murmuring for you to tilt your head back. You did, eyes closing as he began picking up pieces of your hair, sliding them together, twisting gently before picking up more strands. 

“Bucky’s little sister taught me how to do this. Buck was at school one day, and Becca and I were home because we both had the chickenpox. We didn’t have a television back then, and nothing fun was on the radio during the day. So Becca taught me how to braid her hair.”  
“And you were a natural?”

Steve snorted. 

“Hardly. My hands shook so bad you couldn’t even tell there was a braid. But Becca was so calm and patient with me, and before the week was up, I was braiding like a pro.”

You hummed softly as Steve’s nimble fingers continued to drift through your hair. You let yourself get lost in his gentle touches, the pleasure of someone playing with your hair, getting very close to dozing off. 

“There.”

You blinked sleepy eyes open, looking at yourself in the mirror, eyes widening when you tilted your head and took in Steve’s handiwork. 

“Wow.”  
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

You laughed, shaking your head, reaching back and lightly hitting his chest before turning to face him. 

“It’s perfect.”

Steve was smiling back at you when he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. Your hands moved to his face, his smooth, freshly-shaven skin soft against your palms. You hummed against his mouth when his arms slid around you, pulling you closer. 

“When you two are done playing grab-ass, the jet’s ready.”

Your face was on fire when you pulled away from Steve’s kiss, the two of you turning to see Bucky with a shit-eating grin on his face. You narrowed your eyes as the former assassin began whistling as he walked away, and you lowered your forehead to Steve’s chest. He gave your shoulders a gentle rub, speaking low. 

“Come on. They’re going to give us enough grief as it is.”

You nodded, turning back to the mirror and pulling your suit into place. Steve stepped up behind you and zipped it, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

“Soon as this mission’s done, we’re going on our date.”

Your lips curved into a smile. 

“Like the minute it’s over or am I going to have time to shower?”

Steve shook his head. 

“Never mind. I rescind my invitation.”  
“You can’t do that!”

He held out his hands as he backed out of the room, and you laughed as you hurried after him. The two of you ran onto the quinjet, stopping when all eyes were on you. You looked to Steve, who raised an eyebrow at the crowd of Avengers. 

“What are you all standing around for? Buckle up. Let’s get going.”

* * *

You took a break from meditating, your pre-mission routine of trying to get yourself in the right headspace. You unfolded your limbs from where you’d been sitting on the floor, looking around the jet. 

Wanda and Pietro were sitting in two of the chairs, facing each other, their knees touching. Sam and Steve were in the cockpit, while Bucky was sitting across from you, sharpening one of his many knives. Natasha, Clint, and Tony had somehow managed to sit this one out. 

Your attention went back to Bucky, to the slow, methodical way he drew his knife over the strap he was using to sharpen it. Your eyes traced his movements, the slow back and forth, somehow soothing. 

“You gonna say something or are you just going to stare?”

You smiled. 

“I’ll just stare.”

Bucky shook his head, a smile on his lips. 

“What’s on your mind, pretty eyes?”

You didn’t answer, watching as Bucky stopped sharpening his knife. He lifted it and narrowed his eyes as he studied the blade, then went back to sharpening. You thought about ignoring his question, but the man had patience galore—something you did not expect from the former Winter Soldier. You moved a bit closer to him, pitching your voice low. 

“Steve asked me out.”

Bucky stopped the movement of his knife, lifting wide grey eyes to you. 

“No shit?”

You nodded, and a smile spread over Bucky’s face. 

“That’s my boy.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile came to your lips. You lifted a shoulder and shook your head, letting out a sigh. 

“Doesn’t matter, because where are we? Not on the damn date. Jetting off to parts unknown yet again.”  
“It’s not ‘unknown.’ It’s South America, the Amazon rainforest.”

You groaned. 

“Oh, my favorite.”

You hung your head as Bucky laughed under his breath. You looked down at your hands, then back to Bucky, who was watching you with a smirk on his face. You smiled, shaking your head. 

“Ignore me. I’m being stupid and selfish.”  
“Hey, you’re allowed.”

Bucky stood up, walking over to you and sitting beside you. He tapped your knee, leaning closer to you and speaking under his breath. 

“Especially knowing how long it took ol’ _Capitão_ to get his head out of his ass.”

You giggled, leaning to push Bucky’s shoulder with your own. He winked at you and you glanced towards the cockpit, seeing Steve staring back at you with a smirk on his face. You felt your cheeks warm, and Steve gave a quiet laugh before he turned to Sam. 

You shook your head, crossing your legs again, letting your hands rest on your knees, palms up. You inhaled, holding the breath as long as you could before exhaling, trying to clear your mind before the mission. 

* * *

“Easy. Just take it easy.”

You nodded, whimpering as you leaned against Steve, careful not to put any weight on your right foot. He slowly took a step and you tried to imitate him, gasping when pain shot up your leg. Steve shook his head, scooping you into his arms and walking towards the quinjet. 

You felt the breeze as Pietro ran past you and Steve, his sister in his arms. Wanda rolled her eyes as he set her on her feet, pushing her brother’s shoulder and murmuring in a language you didn’t understand. Bucky jogged up beside you and Steve, nodding to the twins. 

“She’s right, you know.”

Wanda grinned and Pietro rolled his eyes behind Bucky’s back, and Bucky turned to walk backwards, looking you over. 

“You okay?”

Your hand shook as you gave him a thumbs up, and he gave a sigh. 

“That was a nasty fall.”  
“I’ve had worse. Can’t really recall one right now, but…”

You’d taken a tumble through the floor of an old hut this particular HYDRA faction was using as their base camp. No one had realized the hut had a secret underground compartment until you’d fallen and heard a sickening crunch from your leg. You rolled your head to look at Bucky, wincing when you saw the blood on his cheek. 

“Jeez, Buck.”

He raised an eyebrow and Steve lifted a shoulder to rub at his own cheek. Bucky lifted a hand, making a face when his fingers came away bloody. 

“Gross, but it’s not mine. No big deal.”  
“Only us lowly mortals got hurt this go-round, huh?”

Bucky smiled, but it slid from his face when you shifted in Steve’s arms, grabbing onto the harness on his chest that held his shield. Steve stopped, and you grit your teeth as you tried to straighten out your quickly swelling leg. 

“Breathe.”  
“God, this hurts.”  
“I know. We’ll be home soon.”

You nodded, putting your face in Steve’s shoulder as he carried you into the jet. Bucky hovered close behind, sitting beside you once Steve had laid you on one of the benches in the back, taking your hand and squeezing it before he walked towards the cockpit. 

“Scale of one to ten.”  
“Ten. It’s a ten.”  
“A fuckin’ ten?”

You laughed, smacking Bucky’s chest. 

“Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

Bucky nodded, offering you a hand. You took it, using his strength to try and maneuver yourself into a comfortable position. After a moment, you relaxed, breathing deeply. You had your eyes closed when Bucky softly spoke. 

“If it helps, the bastard who pushed you met the business end of Steve’s shield before you landed.”

You pursed your lips. 

“You know, that kinda does help.”

Bucky gave a quiet laugh. 

“Can I do anything?”

You shook your head.

“I just really want to pass out and not be able to feel my heartbeat in my ankle.”

Bucky made a face, nodding as his metal palm pressed against yours. 

“Try and rest. We’ll be home soon.”

You nodded slowly, trying to calm your breathing, moaning softly when you felt the sickening thump of your heartbeat in your leg. Unbeknownst to you, all of the color had slid from your face, a cold sweat breaking over your forehead. Bucky whistled through his teeth, making the twins look over to him. He nodded at Wanda, mouthing to her. 

“Little help?”

Wanda nodded, standing up and gripping her brother’s shoulder for a moment. She nodded again, slowly making her way to you and Bucky, eyes already glowing red by the time she reached you. A gentle touch of her hand to your forehead and your hand went limp in Bucky’s, unconsciousness taking your pain away. Bucky nodded, then met Wanda’s eyes. 

“How’s the head?”

She held up a hand in a “so-so” gesture and Bucky nodded. He glanced down at your sleeping form, then back to Wanda. 

“Can you tell if she’s okay?”  
“I can try.”

The jet gently shook with a bit of turbulence, and before Bucky could make a move to Wanda, her brother was behind her, holding her steady. She smiled, lips barely moving as she murmured something only Pietro could hear. He snorted, going quiet as Wanda held a hand over your right foot, fingers causing red sparks to slowly dance as her hand hovered over your ankle, moving slightly before coming to a stop in the middle of your lower leg. 

“Her leg is broken.”  
“Really?”

Wanda nodded. 

“Both bones, I’m afraid.”  
“Shit.”  
“It should be elevated, at least above her heart.”

Bucky watched as Wanda created an intricate net of glowing red ropes, and he helped lift your leg until Wanda could put her makeshift orb under your foot. You gave a quiet moan in your sleep, and Bucky glanced back to see Steve watching him. Bucky motioned with his head and Steve murmured to Sam, patting his shoulder as he walked to his best friend.

Bucky laid your hand by your side and stood up, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Sit by her awhile. I’ll go bother Sam.”

Steve clicked his tongue, shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I thought you two were pretty comfy back here.”

Bucky blinked, then gave a laugh. He backhanded Steve’s shoulder with his metal hand and shook his head. 

“Would you relax? We’re friends. And no offense, but she’s not my type.”  
“Oh, really? And what is your type?”

Bucky automatically glanced towards the cockpit of the jet, quickly glancing away as his cheeks went red. Steve’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open, and Bucky shook his head. 

“Just sit here, would you? Don’t be stupid about this.”  
“I just—“

Bucky didn’t wait for Steve to finish his sentence, and Steve huffed an exasperated breath as he watched the back of Bucky’s head walk away. The twins nodded to Steve, going back to their seats. He glanced at your leg, stepping forward and gently unzipping your boot, removing it from your foot as easily as he could. He studied your leg, waking to the cockpit, to the passenger seat, where Bucky was sitting. 

“Yeah, that’s why you got to … hey, punk, what the hell?”

Steve took a knife off Bucky’s belt, turning it in his hand as he walked back to you. Everyone on the jet seemed to fall silent, watching as Steve pulled the material of your suit away from your knee, slipping the knife through the material. He slid the knife down the leg of your suit, hissing when he pulled the two pieces of material aside, seeing the intense bruising and swelling of your leg. 

“Damn, Y/N.”

He looked over towards Wanda.

“Is everything okay? Other than the broken bones?”

Wanda nodded, closing her eyes and wincing, lifting a hand to the back of her head. Pietro muttered in their native language, and Wanda laid a hand on his shoulder. She blinked twice, then met Steve’s eyes. 

“Yes. Both bones in her leg are broken, slightly displaced, but not bad enough to cause further damage.”

Steve nodded and sighed. 

“Thank you, Wanda.”

She smiled, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. Steve bent over you, picking up your hand and holding it, exhaling slowly as he brushed his fingertips over your still-braided hair. 

* * *

Steve walked down the hallway of the medical wing, hair still slightly damp from his shower. He walked to the room Jarvis had told him you were in, lifting his hand to knock, going still when he heard the sniffle. He gentled his knock, pushing open the door before you could answer. 

He watched you quickly wipe your hands over your cheeks, unable to hide the tear tracks and red eyes. He shook his head and you blew out a breath, motioning for him to come and sit beside you. He took your hand, no words leaving his mouth, but curiosity all over his face. You sighed, staring at the hand he was holding as you spoke. 

“They took x-rays and the … both bones are broken in my leg. It’s a bad break, and they …”

You sighed again. 

“They’re going to have to do surgery. Probably put a couple of rods in my leg.”  
“Oh, jeez.”

You nodded, and Steve watched a muscle in your jaw tic before you spoke again. 

“And they … they said that the recov—recovery is hard, and even if everything goes perfectly, I probably won’t be able to go on missions anymore.”

You leaned back against the pillows, taking your hand from Steve’s and covering your face with both hands. You weren’t able to see the shock on Steve’s face, or the way he blinked a few times before shaking his head. He reached out and gently took your hands off your face, gently rubbing his thumbs on your wrists. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.”  
“It’s not!”

Steve smiled softly, moving to sit on the edge of your bed, keeping one hand in his lap. He looked back at your face, keeping that gentle smile on his own. 

“You don’t have to go on missions to be a good agent.”  
“I know. But I _like_ going on missions. I’m good at it. Well, I thought I was.”  
“Hey, one injury doesn’t mean you’re a bad agent.”

You shook your head. 

“It’s not fair.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head. 

“No, it isn’t.”

He met your eyes, saw the tears sparkling. You shook your head and sniffled. 

“I’m sorry, I … I think I just want to be alone for a while.”

Steve slowly nodded, picking up your hand and bringing it to his lips. You pushed a smile onto your face, and he nodded again as he walked to the door. It wasn’t until the door shut behind him that you broke, picking up a pillow and putting it over your face to muffle the sobs. 

Sobs he heard anyway. 

Steve walked back to his room, passing Natasha on the way to see you, not speaking or acknowledging her presence. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him press the button, then step into the elevator. 

“JARVIS?”  
 _“Yes, Miss Romanoff.”  
_ “Where is the captain going?”  
 _“To his room, ma’am. Shall I ask him to wait for you?”_

Natasha thought for a moment, then shook her head. 

“No, thank you.”

She stared at the elevator for a moment, then shook her head as she walked down the hall to your room in the medical wing.

* * *

Steve stepped into his apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. He pushed both hands through his hair, exhaling sharply.

“This isn’t supposed to happen.”

He looked around the room, bare of anything personal, as warm and inviting as a prison cell. He walked into his bedroom, eyes taking in the crisply made bed, the masculine furniture, the fake plant on the windowsill. He shut his eyes, shaking his head. He walked to the spacious closet and shut the door behind him, pushing things aside until he found the briefcase. He knelt down and opened it, studying the Infinity Stones staring back at him. 

He could use the aether, turn Y/N’s broken leg into an illusion. But … that could end up being more harmful. 

He could use the Time Stone and go back to just before that bastard pushed her and take him out. Or he could make sure she wasn’t near that bit of rotten flooring. Or he could go back even further and convince her not to go on the mission. Have Natasha take her place instead. 

But what could happen to Natasha if he did that?

Steve stared at the Stones, finally closing his eyes and hanging his head. He closed the briefcase without looking at it, giving a long exhale before returning it to its hiding place. He moved to sit with his back against the wall, knees drawn up, arms resting on his knees. 

He knew he’d caused some damage by not returning the Stones and using them instead. He knew how easy it would be to use them again and again, for his own selfish reasons, but that makes him no better than Thanos. But hadn’t he earned some selfish?

Hadn’t you? 

Steve let his head fall back, staring at the waning light creeping in through the slats in the door. You’d never broken your leg in his timeline. You’d gotten hurt on missions, of course—everyone had—but nothing to this extent. Nothing that could permanently take you out of the game. No, this injury was brand new. 

Steve got an itch at the back of his neck when he thought about that. 

He shook his head, pushing to his feet. No, this time would be different. He glanced towards where the briefcase was hidden. This time, you’d be fine.

One way or another. 

* * *

Steve couldn’t sleep worth a damn, so he finally gave up, got out of bed and ran ten miles. He showered and decided to grab a cup of coffee before he went to the medical wing, hoping to see you before they took you back for surgery. 

Imagine his surprise when he walked into the kitchen and saw you standing at the counter, a mug in your hands. 

“Y/N?”

You turned to face him, a bright smile on your face. The shorts you were wearing showed off your legs, neither of which were swollen or bruised in any way. Steve shook his head and your smile widened. 

“Morning, Captain.”

Steve shook his head, eyes going from your leg to your face. 

“How?”

You shrugged your shoulders, setting the mug on the counter. 

“I felt better this morning, and I could move without any pain. They redid the x-rays and there is no evidence of a break. I’m fine.”

Steve crossed the kitchen in a flash, taking you in his arms. You laughed, lacing your arms around him, closing your eyes as the warmth of his body bled into yours. As you leaned into his thick chest, Steve spoke softly. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”  
“Me, too.”  
“I just … how?”

You shook your head, sighing softly, stepping back from Steve. 

“I don’t know for sure.”  
“But you have your suspicions?”

You smiled and nodded, looking down at your hands. You opened your mouth, closing it again when Natasha and Clint walked into the kitchen, stopping abruptly and eyes widening when they saw you. Clint shook his head and you smiled, lifting a shoulder. 

“I’m okay.”

Natasha shook her head as she stepped forward. 

“How? I saw your xrays. There’s no way—“  
“Must have been a miracle.”

Natasha’s eyes widened and Clint huffed out a breath, tossing his head to the side and whining as he walked to the coffee pot. He took the whole pot and carried it to the table, wrapping his arms around it, pulling a straw from the jar on the table and putting it into the pot. You shook your head, laying a hand on Steve’s arm as you stepped around him to gather the ingredients to make a new pot of coffee in the second coffeemaker. 

Steve was quiet as he watched Natasha sit beside Clint, pulling her feet up, wiggling her toes as she pushed them under his leg until he sat on them. Clint grunted and took a sip of coffee through his straw, hovering protectively over the pot, cradling it as Bucky and Sam made their ways into the room, both of them sweating. Bucky’s hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and he nodded when you held up a finger at him, then pointed to the coffee pot. Sam went for the refrigerator, taking out the carton of orange juice.

“Use a glass, Wilson.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder and glared at you, but he relented when you cocked an eyebrow at him. He took the glass Bucky offered him from the cabinet, pouring the juice into his glass, then going still before shaking his head. 

“Wait just a damn minute.”

Bucky glanced at Sam, then blinked wide eyes as he turned to you. 

“Whoa. You’re …”  
“Fine.”

Bucky shook his head, kneeling down before you, making you jump when cool metal fingers brushed over your shin. 

“How? This thing was twice the size and so purple it was almost black yesterday.”

You lifted your toes to his metal shoulder and pushed, barely moving him off-balance. 

“Must have been a miracle.”

Sam cursed under his breath and Bucky stood to his feet, sighing and shaking his head. Steve shook his head, looking from Sam to Bucky, then over to where Natasha had a knowing smile on her face. 

“I don’t know what’s happening.”  
“Par for the course, right, Capsicle?”

Tony’s brows furrowed when he looked from Steve to you, shaking his head as he pointed to your leg. 

“What’s going on?”  
“Little miraculous healing before breakfast.”

Tony groaned, pushing Sam aside as he went for the coffee pot, grumbling under his breath. 

“It’s too early for this shit.”

Tony poured himself some coffee, throwing it back like a shot. He poured some more, returning the pot to the base, gasping and bobbling the mug when he saw the snake coiled up on the counter. Steve instinctively stepped in front of you, and you giggled as you laid a hand against his back, going on your tiptoes to peek over his shoulder. Tony set the mug on the counter, moving to run cool water over the back of his hand, which was covered in coffee and slightly burnt. 

“Goddamn it. You son of a bitch.”

Steve’s eyes widened as a golden light shone, the snake transforming into a man sitting on the edge of the counter. 

“Such language at such an early hour, Anthony.”  
“You made me spill my coffee, you bastard.”

Steve’s eyes were wide, heartbeat thundering in his ears as he stared at the man. The noises in the room faded as he looked back to the table, where Natasha and Clint sat, Clint with his head bowed, straw of coffee still in his mouth, Natasha with a small smile on her lips as she scrolled through news apps on her phone. Sam and Bucky were talking low on the other side of the room, and Tony was muttering under his breath as he turned off the faucet and dried his hands. You stepped from behind Steve, hand sliding along his shoulder as you made your way to stand in front of the … god on the kitchen counter. 

“I suppose some thanks are in order?”  
“Whatever could you be referring to, my love?”

Your cheeks went pink, eyes rolling as you gently shook your head. He leaned in towards you, inky black hair gleaming even in the industrial lighting. 

“You know I could never bear to see you hurt.”

You smiled, glancing back at Steve, the smile sliding from your face when you saw the twitch in his jaw, the hard set to his eyes. 

“Steve?”

Tony, Sam, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint all looked your way when they heard the slight tremble in your voice, scrambling into action when Steve quickly crossed the room, grabbing the man by the lapels of his coat, yanking him up and pressing him against the wall. 

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Shouts echoed around the room, words Steve couldn’t hear and didn’t bother trying to understand in his haze of rage. The man winced when Steve moved a thick forearm to press against his throat, green eyes meeting Steve’s own, a flash of surprise accompanying one dark eyebrow raising. 

“Well. My, my.”

Steve narrowed his eyes as the man coughed, wincing at the increase of pressure on his windpipe. Steve went to open his mouth, falling silent when your sweet voice broke through. 

“Please, Steve, come on. Look at me. Steve.”

He did, turning his head just slightly to meet your wide, frightened eyes. You nodded, doing your best to keep your voice level. 

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay, Steve. Just let him go.”

Steve gave a shake of his head. 

“This is _Loki_.”  
“I know.”

You shook your head, one trembling hand moving to rest against his shoulder. 

“Loki wouldn’t hurt us.”

Bucky made a disagreeing noise, clamping his mouth shut when you shot a glare his way. You looked back to see Steve staring at you, and you shook your head again, moving your hand up a bit to let your pinky finger brush against Steve’s cheek. He gave a small shake of his head, voice barely a whisper. 

“He’s … evil.”  
“No, honey. No. He’s just … mischievous.”

Steve shook his head again, and you moved both hands to touch him. 

“It’s okay, Steve. Just let him go. I promise you, he’s not going to do anything to hurt us.”

Steve slid his eyes back to Loki, who nodded. 

“She’s right. If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be bleeding … Captain.”

Steve felt his lips trying to curl into a snarl, but he slowly relaxed, dropping his hands from Loki, dropping him to the ground. Loki stumbled a bit, straightening his cloak and glancing back at Steve, a knowing, yet curious look in his eyes. Steve looked to you, taking your hand and pulling you close, putting his face in your hair. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around him, motioning for the others to leave. They did, and when it was just the two of you in the kitchen, you moved a hand to gently scratch at Steve’s scalp. 

“Can we talk?”

Steve tightened his grip on your waist for just a moment, giving a long exhale as he stepped back from you. He turned his back to you, placing his hands on the counter and hanging his head. You licked your lips, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly as you spoke. 

“What was that?”

Steve shook his head, lifting it to glance out the window, throat working as he swallowed. 

“Loki’s the one who healed you?”

When you didn’t answer, Steve turned his head, looking over his shoulder and meeting your clearly worried eyes. You nodded, and Steve shook his head, looking back out the window. 

“And what do we have to give him in return?”  
“What? No. We don’t … Steve.”

He couldn’t look at you, and you licked your lips before speaking again. 

“What happened to you?”

He didn’t answer, so you went on. 

“You’re … not acting like yourself. It’s almost like you have no idea what’s going on here.”  
“So fill me in.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him, then taking a step backwards. 

“Will you look at me?”

He hung his head, closing his eyes. He finally turned around, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and meeting your eyes. You shook your head again, fighting the urge to go to him. 

“What is going on with you?”

Steve shook his head and you blew out a breath. 

“Don’t … don’t lie to me. You’re not the same Steve we left here last week. What happened?”

It took him by surprise, the fact that he actually wanted to tell you. But how could he?

_“I’m actually from eight years in the future. The Avengers broke up, only getting back together when it was a last resort. Then we lost. We lost so badly that half the population just disappeared. Not that it bothered you any, because you’ve been dead for years in my time.”_

Steve glanced over his shoulder, back out the window. He knew he couldn’t tell you the truth, but how could he lie to you? He uncrossed his arms, letting one fall by his side, using the other hand to rub his chin. 

“Something did happen. I just … I’m not sure what.”  
“What do you mean?”

Steve shook his head, turning to face the window again, putting both hands on the counter.

“It’s like … like I’ve lived this before, but … differently.”  
“Different how?”

Steve swallowed. 

“Loki was a bad guy. Pietro died soon after we met him. Bucky was a master assassin, and you and I never touched.”

You blinked, giving a sharp exhale. Steve shook his head, looking over his shoulder at you. 

“It’s hard to tell what’s real. What’s an actual memory and what’s not. I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t apologize. _Steve_.”

He turned his head to look at you, seeing the worry on your face. You went to him, one hand moving to his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. You shook your head, just staring at him. 

“I can’t imagine that. Not being able to remember, or not sure what to remember. Oh, honey.”

You wrapped your arms around him and Steve melted into your touch. His hands came up to press against your back, holding you close as one of your hands drifted up to stroke his hair. After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke again. 

“You’re sure Loki’s on our side?”

You smiled. 

“I’m sure. He’s crafty, but he’s one of us. Well, as much ‘one of us’ as a god can be.”  
“Okay.”  
“I mean … we never would have beaten Fury without Loki’s help. He saved our lives.”

Steve’s eyes flew open. He gently pushed you back, keeping his hands on your shoulders as he studied your face. 

“Fury?”

You nodded. 

“Undercover HYDRA agent? Brought the aliens down on us in the Battle of New York? If it wasn’t for Loki, we would have been toast.”

Steve just stared at you, barely even blinking. You gave a shaky exhale, letting your hand fall to his shoulder. 

“I’ll get you the files, let you refresh your memory.”

Steve slowly nodded. You smiled as you let your hand slide from his shoulder to his back. 

“Loki just likes to play tricks. He’s the god of mischief, after all. But he’d never hurt us.”  
“Are you sure? The stories of what he did to Thor alone, I just …”

You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Who?”

Steve met your eyes, saw the confusion in them. 

“Thor.”

You shook your head. 

“Who is that?”

Steve felt his heart stutter in his chest. He blinked, speaking again. 

“Thor. The god of Thunder. Loki’s brother.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head again. 

“Loki doesn’t have a brother. He’s spoken some about a sister, but I don’t know if she’s actually alive or just a scary story they told to keep him in line.”  
“Are you sure?”

You shrugged your shoulders. 

“We could always just ask him. But I … I think he would have told us about a brother by now.”

Steve swallowed hard, slowly nodding his head. You moved a hand to cup his cheek, feeling your heart thud in your chest when he turned his face to your touch, closing his eyes. 

“Let me get you some water, okay?”

Steve nodded, pressing his lips to your palm until you’d stepped too far away. He stared straight ahead, mind churning, heart racing with the realizations that were suddenly hitting him, the consequences of what he’d done only beginning to scratch the surface. 

Pietro was still alive.   
Bucky was thriving.   
Thor didn’t exist here.   
Fury did, but as the complete opposite of what Steve had known. 

Steve took the water bottle from your hand, smiling back at the soft smile you gave him. He set the bottle on the table and took your hand, tugging you close. You had that same soft smile on your face when he lifted a hand to your cheek, caressing gently as he pressed his lips to yours. 

It was worth it. 

_You_ were worth it. 


End file.
